


Dream World

by ThereIsNoTragedyInThat



Series: Self-Indulgence [14]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Dark, Don't copy to another site, Drabble, Hurt Stephen Strange, Kidnapping, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Oneshot, Stalking, might be another chapter who knows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-10-17 05:53:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20616053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThereIsNoTragedyInThat/pseuds/ThereIsNoTragedyInThat
Summary: Stephen is kidnapped by the man whose life he saved.





	Dream World

When Stephen drifted back to consciousness, the first thing he noticed, was the pain around his wrists and ankles. It was an odd thing to wake up to and as he tried to shift to relieve the pressure, panic spiked in his chest at the realization he couldn’t. Stephen’s eyes flew open, taking in the dark room and the cold air kissing his skin.

New pains made themselves known. His head throbbed something fierce while his shoulders ached from the awkward position they had been wrenched into. It quickly became obvious he was stuck, tied to a rickety old chair with what felt like rope and utterly unable to escape. Stephen’s stomach twisted sickeningly and for one dizzying moment, he thought he might throw up from the sheer helplessness.

Luckily, that didn’t last long.

Stephen had never been one to crack under pressure, to do so, often meant the rapid and unfortunate end to a human life in his hands. In this case, it seemed like it might be his own. So, Stephen took a deep breath, ignoring the spike of pain in his chest and shoulders, and closed his eyes once more. He didn’t say anything, tried not to even think, for fear a misplaced thought would set him off again.

Instead, limb by limb, muscle by muscle, Stephen allowed himself to relax. Eventually, he eased into a position that wasn’t quite so damaging and his mind reached a point where every thought didn’t feel precarious. Only then, did Stephen finally reopen his eyes and take in what he could.

The room was chilly, and it quickly became apparent why. Stephen was in a small, concrete room, barely visible in the dimness of the dark. There seemed to be only the slightest bit of light filtering through a tinted window, sitting up high on one wall. Other then that, the room was empty of everything but him. The wall in front of him held a single, simple, door. Wooden with a window installed a bit higher.

Stephen bit his lip, tried to ignore the pounding his head, and think back to what had happened. He’d been leaving the hospital, that much he knew for certain, after a long day of surgeries. There had been a bus crash…a school bus and they’d been given patient after patient. Stephen hadn’t even wanted to know the death to life count by the end of the day. He had walked out the front door…headed toward the parking garage…and nothing.

He took another calming breath. The lack of memory was easily explained by the pain in his skull and didn’t necessarily mean a concussion. At least he had woken up on his own which was an even better sign.

Now, it was simply determining who the hell would try to kidnap him. Stephen was the best surgeon in New York, though he’d argue bigger. But that was where the notoriety ended. The best he could come up with, was a disgruntled family member to a patient. Then why keep him alive?

Shaking his head, Stephen willed himself to stop for a moment. Thinking this way wouldn’t help him. He had above average intelligence and zero intention of acting like a damsel in distress. This would be a game he’d win once he figured out who the other player was.

As if he’d spoken it into existence, there was the sound of the door handle rattling softly, clearly being unlocked, followed by the squeak of the door. Stephen was kept from seeing his captor right away by the sudden light that filled the room, sending agony through his skull.

His voice, however…

“Stephen?”

Trying and failing to blink back tears, he flinched when hands cradled his face and that deep, gentle voice whispered his name. It sounded familiar in a way, but he couldn’t place it, not yet. With a groan he forced himself to open his eyes wide and ignore the pain. This attempt proved fruitful when his breath caught in his throat and his heart seemed to seize in his chest.

Kneeling in front of him with wide, concerned eyes was none other then Tony Stark.

Instinctively he tried to lean away, from those hands, those eyes, only for the man to offer a wobbly smile, shushing him gently, “its alright, you’ll be ok. I’m so sorry about all this but I needed to make sure you wouldn’t hurt yourself.”

Stephen opened his mouth, intending to say something but no words came, shock still reverberating through his body. Tony fucking Stark. The man whom Stephen had saved nearly four months ago now by implementing an experimental device into his chest to keep the shrapnel from the reaching his heart.

Fear; cold and clammy as the hand of death, slid up his spine.

Tony smiled softly, a hand reaching up to run through Stephen’s hair, “there we go. Just relax sweetheart. I’m going to take care of everything and then we’ll get you a proper bed, a change of clothes, whatever you want.”

The look in those eyes was fervent, almost as though he’d been touched by a fever, but Stephen knew better. It wasn’t a fever but madness, something the team at Stark Industries had been working to keep under wraps for decades now. At least that was what he learned when asked to sign the NDA.

Having it focused entirely on him was…horrifying.

He couldn’t help but think back to the first encounter after the surgery, the maniac energy that has left him reeling. Tony had visited him a month after the surgery, well on his way through rehabilitation. He’d been standing in Stephen’s office, uninvited, carefully looking at the photos on his desk and having obviously just been going through his drawers. Stephen had been surprised and off balance, unsure what to say to the billionaire whose life he saved, so used to never speaking to his patients. Tony had looked up at him, eyes lighting on fire as he strode around the desk and right up to Stephen. A harsh, desperate kiss had been pressed to Stephen’s lips before he carefully forced the man away, mindful of his handiwork on the man’s chest

Tony had pouted, offended. Has started spouting bullshit about how grateful he was Stephen has saved his life and how much he loved him and that they could finally be happy. Stephen had backed up to the door, hand pulling out his phone to call security, when one of Tony’s handlers had barged in, apologizing profusely. The shorter man had been tugged from the room even as he fought it and Stephen had stared after them, shaken and uncertain about what the hell had just happened in his office.

In the end he hadn’t said anything. The NDA was for 2.3 million dollars and Christine had always said his greed would be his downfall. Stephen had been reassured that it was simply a lapse and Tony would never contact him again, nothing to worry about. He’d trusted them, even when flowers showed up periodically at his office or anonymous donations were made to the hospital.

He’d been such an idiot.

Tony’s frowned at him, clearly unhappy with the lack of response, “are you alright? I didn’t think I hit you that hard.”

It took Stephen all of five seconds to decided playing up a head injury was in his best interest. He let his head roll forward a bit, blinked as though he were still disoriented, “I think…I might have a concussion.”

His eyes widened and just like that Tony was standing and fiddling with the ropes on his hands and ankles. Stephen’s first thought was to shove the man away and make a break for the door, but it was quickly dismissed. Tony Stark was an infamous man, particularly for the weaponry and security designed by his company. There was no way he had only ropes and locked doors to keep him in. Better to play it safe.

“Where are we?”

Tony tugged on the rope and fell it away, allowed Stephen to sigh in relief, rubbing at his wrists and rolling his shoulders. The billionaire settled in front of him, working on his ankles now, “we’re home,” he said cheerfully.

Stephen swallowed, “home?”

Tony hummed, “yes. I think you’ll like it. We won’t be interrupted here by anyone. We’ll finally be able to be happy.”

Stephen’s heart pounded in his chest, while his body felt decidedly weak on the wings of nausea that bloomed inside him. Part of him had hoped Tony was well aware of what he had done, because at least it would be a man with his senses. This, however, was worse, so much worse. It could be seen with a single look that Tony believed it, really and truly.

“Stephen?”

He didn’t answer, everything around him going mute as the buzzing in his mind increased. His vision seemed to darken in the corners and before Stephen could stop it, he felt himself slumping, becoming aware, only of the strong firm grip, guiding him into a more comfortable position on the floor.


End file.
